‘Jelly’s useful as well,’ said Nick. ‘You ask who’s been to England, and how they liked the food. Then they talk for ages about how horrible jelly is and how it made them feel. If you’re lucky, someone stands up and wobbles.’

Minna was wearing a rosary lengthened at the back of her neck with extra links. She was sucking on the crucifix – when she took it out, it had a red lipstick stain. Different music came on. ‘Scary monsters’ … I didn’t know the song but I recognised Bowie’s voice. He was a scary monster for sure, I said, citing the Thin White Duke’s admiration for Hitler. Deb said that Bowie hadn’t meant it like that. Every white Bowie fan I knew had told me the same thing. Deb’s skin was faintly blue like milk that’s been skimmed. She had a doll’s face, pretty and hard.

Dieter came up to us, twisting the end of a joint, saying, ‘Is everyone happy? Soon we will dance. Germans dancing – do not be afraid.’ He asked if we’d met Adalbert. ‘There, near the music. Mein Schatz.’ His beloved was a tall, severely beautiful man modelled from ice. He was old – possibly thirty! ‘I know,’ Dieter said. ‘You are thinking, He looks like a Nazi.’ He told us that Adalbert had once played an SS officer in a film. The director was up and coming, and the film screened at Cannes. Adalbert felt that his career was assured. The world would never tire of films about the Third Reich. He went to Paris and rented a suite at the George V. ‘He was rehearsing being a star, so that when it happened, he would know exactly what to do.’ At the end of a fortnight, Adalbert had spent all his money. Four years on, the best new role he’d had was in a commercial for an electric shaver.

When he wasn’t being a Nazi, Adalbert kept a photo of a house plant in his wallet. He dug it out to show me. His English, like my German, conveyed goodwill rather than meaning, so Dieter translated: ‘This is called elephant’s foot, and it is Adalbert’s favourite plant. Its name is Ramón.’ I said that a plant with leaves the size of platters grew in Sydney and was known as elephant’s ears. But Adalbert had no feeling for elephants. He ran an amorous thumb over the plastic protecting his Schatz.

The party went this way and that. Minna said, ‘The minute they switch to disco, I’m leaving.’ They switched to disco. Nick was humming the Bowie song under his breath as we left. The door of the lift clanged into place, and Minna said, ‘Adalbert – what a name! He’s probably got a sister called Waltraut. There’s only one question to ask about people like that: what did they do during the war?’